


Clandestine

by Warpony



Series: Feral Echoes [35]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Chronic Pain, F/F, Gen, Homeward Bound We Be, Hunting, M/M, Making Plans, Reunions, Spoilers for C2E122, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpony/pseuds/Warpony
Summary: Brunnera supposed this was a tryst of sorts. That he was in need of misdirection and shielding from prying eyes. How strangely fitting considering who among the Nein had loved the Moonweaver. Brunnera sent a silent prayer to Sehanine and to whatever shard of soul that had been the real Mollymauk Tealeaf, begging both for a bit of luck and protection. To turn Lucien’s eyes away for the time being...
Relationships: Verin Thelyss/Original Character(s)
Series: Feral Echoes [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711534
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Clandestine

They had to wait until the last moment to set the dome up for their rest. That meant a few hours more sitting around the fire across from the Tomb Takers.  
  
The fading scent of food long eaten and tea long drunk was fading on the wind. It seemed Lucien's melancholy had passed from Jester’s tarot reading and he'd turned back to hold court around the fire. Though his dispelling of the Tower had thoroughly soured the Nein to him for the night. Other than Jester’s halfhearted attempts at being friendly from where she was curled into Fjord's side and Beau throwing barbs from under a borrowed side of Yasha’s cloak they had been fairly silent.  
  
Brunnera was no exception. In fact he'd set his eyes on Lucien and never looked away; the lavender tiefling looking over to catch his gaze repeatedly before finally locking gazes. Brunnera blinked slow and steady, as if teasing the bloodhunter about being able to blink at all considering the Nein's observations from the night before.  
  
"Haven't heard a word out 'o that big, ugly brute of yours since we all set off together." Lucien said suddenly, a smirk crossing his lips.  
  
Brunnera's lips curled back, much in the way a dog would snarl, showing his curved teeth. But no noise came from his throat.  
  
"Does he talk at all?" Lucien drawled, smirking to show one of his own curved, sharp canines in return.  
  
"Oh yes!" Jester piped up. "Brunnera is really, _very_ eloquent."  
  
"And insightful. He can see right into your soul, yanno." Beau agreed.  
  
Caduceus hummed quietly as he sipped at the last dredges of his tea, "Its a trait of ancient Firbolg royalty."  
  
"Royalty?" The bloodhunter cocked his head, eyes traveling back the colossal fighter. Brunnera's face stayed impassive and carefully schooled.  
  
Jester chirped a bit in agreement, "Cause of his fur. Only super special, old king Firbolgs turn white like him in the cold. We waited all year to see if it would."  
  
"I see. An old king, eh?" Lucien purred.  
  
The fighter only blew out a rush of warm air, it bloomed in a cloud of steam around his face before drifting away.  
  
"And everyone knows kings give the best speeches." Veth shrugged.  
  
" _Ja_. And a natural storyteller. The best of this age, I'd wager." Caleb hummed over the edge of his coiled scarf.  
  
"A storyteller?" Lucien huffed, red eyes flashing a bit. "Now _that_ I would like to hear. Go on, your majesty! Tell us a story! Especially seein' as none else in your party will impart us with a tale."  
  
Caleb flinched a bit where he was tucked against Brunnera's fur and started to sit up and pull away. He muttered softly, " _Es tut mir leid, mein Freund. Ich habe nicht nachgedacht..._  
  
Brunnera's arm shifted, moving to wrap around the fire mage and giving him a reassuring squeeze. Hugging him into his side again. Caleb’s tense shoulders relaxed. Brunnera's eyes never left Lucien's but his large, rough hands came up, starting to draw and twist the symbols of Nein Sign in the air in front of him.  
  
Lucien's predatory grin faltered into a flash of confusion before Caleb’s voice filled the space over the fire and drawing the full attention of all the Tomb Takers as well. Jester carefully tugged out her journal and started to scribble down the story in her own, Infernal shorthand to be transcribed more cleanly later into the journal of Brunnera's stories.  
  
_Once, in the depth of a fey wood, a hare named Char made his burrow under the roots of a long dead Iron Wood tree. Char was not a great chieftain among his kind nor did he have a mate but lived peaceful and alone under the tree's roots. The day came that a sly, slender fox came to the clearing of Char's den and spied the hare. The fox had a mind to make an easy meal of Char and instead of rushing out and chasing his prey into the safety of the burrow the fox feigned injury. Limping, whining and whimpering he hobbled to the edge of the clearing before throwing himself to the forest floor as if dying. Char hesitated to bolt for his home and sat watching the fox from the entrance of the burrow. He took pity on the fox and gathering a few herbs from around his den carried them to the fox's side. As Char set to attempt to heal the fallen creature the fox sprung his trap and attacked. But the fox had made a terrible mistake. The fox had mistaken kindness for weakness. A fatal flaw._  
  
Another thick cloud of warm vapor bloomed from Brunnera's nostrils, flooding his face before being carried away. Lucien narrowed his eyes, casting a glance down to Caleb and found sharp, blue eyes watching him keenly. Caleb’s eyes skipped back to Brunnera's hands as the fighter started to sign again.  
  
_Char fought with a savagery and strength that he had not had before and the fox all to swiftly found himself outmatched. The combat was brutal but with a final strike Char felled the fox. But at his own great cost, he lay bleeding and dying with his once powerful legs ruined by the fight. In the haze of his dying breath the fae spirit of the wood rose up to meet him. The Iron Wood spirit, impressed with not only Char's courage in battle but his kindness shown to an enemy, offered Char a second life. Char felt the life returning to him, his savaged legs growing strong and woven anew from cords of iron ore and wood. His breath came back and filled his chest with magic fire like that of dragonkin. The spirit gave Char a mind and speech and promised that as long as he stood guard in that wood and lived beneath the roots of that tree he and his kin would prosper. And so it was that the great fighting hares of the Iron Wood Warren was founded, standing sentinel in those wild trees against things unnatural and threats to the balance of things._  
  
Lucien's eyes flashed a bit, the Eye on the back of his hand and side of his throat whipping his attention to almost glare at between Caleb and Brunnera as the firbolg's hands resettled in his lap. "I see what you mean. Quite the storyteller indeed..."  
  
The fighter snorted soft and low, another thick cloud of steam clouding around his face.  
  
The next day broke with low, thick cloud cover and Lucien offering up his coverless book for a few moments study. It promised use of the Tower that night which stirred a cautious plan in Brunnera's mind. The day was spent following Lucien's wandering through freezing fog that left them all exhausted and miserable, though the heavy cover gave the fighter the chance to drop back and sign silently to Jester and Beau for a moment. The monk quick to play her part in the fighter's cautiously woven plan she marched ahead to loudly antagonize Lucien, drawing his and the Tomb Takers' attention as Jester swiftly drew a sigil in the air and shot off a Sending message. The response was promising when Jester signed it to Brunnera. The big fighter giving her a one armed hug in thanks for the risk she'd taken before they focused back on trudging through the landscape.  
  
The ice fog was miserable. Even Brunnera was unsteady on his feet and frost had started to gather on the edges of his fur by the time they came across their own swath of tracks in the ice crusted snow.  
  
The huge fighter dropped to sit heavily in the snow with a huff, earning a glare from Lucien as Caleb set to work drawing together the arcane threads to weave the spell of their home together.  
  
A night in the Tower was temping but the fighter knew if the careful work of whispered Sending spells were to be worth anything he would have to shun the warmth. At least for now.  
  
As the last of the Nein passed the doorway only himself and Lucien stood outside, the square of multicolored light pooling over the snow.  
  
"After you, your majesty." Lucien drawled.  
  
Brunnera solemnly shook his head. The fighter watched at the tiefling's spine went rigid and eyes narrowed. His tail lashed sharply back and forth.  
  
"No? But I must insist." Lucien said a bit more firmly.  
  
Brunnera shook his head again, face impassive and ears relaxed despite his internal tension.  
  
"Everything alright out here?" Fjord reappeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame as Caleb slid in next to him.  
  
"It seems our old royal here has a mind to stay outside." Lucien drawled. "Tell me, my friends. Why would he choose such a thing?"  
  
"Did you ask him?" Fjord asked casually, cocking an eyebrow up.  
  
Brunnera snorted and shook his head. Fjord and Caleb looked back towards Lucien expectantly. The tiefling glared back, the trials of the night before and the day seemed to be catching up to him and he was swiftly losing his composure.  
  
"You see, I don't much care as to the _why_." Lucien all but snapped. "Bit suspicious that he would shun such comforts for the snow and dark."  
  
"Are you so sure?" Fjord countered. "Brunnera is an Alpine Firbolg. A race born and bred for the frigid tundra. He's been happier here on Foren than he has in all the time I've known him. But I'm sure its more than just the comfort of a snowdrift to sleep in that keeps Brunnera from joining us?"  
  
" _Ja_. Tell us, _mein freund. Bitte?_ " Caleb agreed quietly.  
  
The firbolg lifted his hands to draw a few Nein Signs in the air. He didn't dare tell the truth in a mockery of the lavander tiefling in their company for fear that he may see a lie in the translation or have picked up enough of the signs to read them himself yet.  
  
_Try to hunt. Think. Be alone._  
  
Fjord relayed the message to Lucien who tisked.  
  
"I'm afraid that just won't do and again, I must insist he join us. Wouldn't want him running off all on his own-"  
  
The roar that ripped from Brunnera's throat boomed like a crack of thunder and made Lucien actually leap back a step. The sound echoed in the otherwise silent landscape for a harrowing long moment.  
  
The fighter stalked a threatening step towards Lucien, lips curled to show his teeth.  
  
His hands jerked in violent signs, almost spitting out the words into Lucien's face before the fighter turned on his heel stalked away a dozen paces and sat himself down in the snow, back straight and head lifted proudly against the buffet of wind and snow.  
  
"You've insulted him terribly, Mr.Lucien." Caleb said a bit coldly. "He said, 'I would no sooner abandon my family than you would carve your Eyes out'. I think you understand his meaning."  
  
"It'd be best to leave him alone. Once he realizes all that noise scared all the prey off in a few miles he's only going to be crankier." Fjord pushed off the doorframe and turned turned back inside, following Caleb.  
  
Lucien glared at Brunnera's shape in the dark a moment longer before finally turning and stepping inside the Tower. Brunnera distantly heard the soft sound of the door click shut.  
  
The big fighter let out a tightly held breath, relaxing a little. He reached into his pack, pulling out a small lantern and a bit of flint. He struck a light. The wick caught, flickering to life, casting a soft yellow glow around him in a pool across the snow.  
  
Brunnera sat in the snow, waiting, listening, letting time tick by, knowing that Lucien would be obsessed with checking on him and growing steadily more bored with him sitting still in the snow and get steadily more distracted by the rest of the Nein and the Tower.  
  
Brunnera rose suddenly from his place, shaking away snow like an overlarge dog then scooping up his lantern set off into the dark away from the Tower door. He moved almost silently through the snow, and once he'd gained some distance he turned the lantern low enough it could be mistaken for a Wil-o-wisp or a ghostlight.  
  
He hiked back along the path yhey had made the day before. Before entering the ice fog field and rendering them lost, finding their old tracks and following. Then finding the familiar double cut trails through the snow of tough wheels cutting and grinding through ice.  
  
"...D...D-dagen?" Brunnera called softly in the dark, his voice cracking a bit with disuse.  
  
A long silence followed then a soft crunch of snow and slowly a shape made its way in the dark towards Brunnera. The big fighter stepped up to meet the chairbound dwarf. "Startin' to wonder if ya forgot about me."  
  
Brunnera shook his head, digging into his pack he pulled out a bundle of rations wrapped in a blanket, including a bottle of rum that had been stored away in the bag sometime when they had been on Rumblecusp. He passed the package over. Dagen took it, untucking the bundle a bit to inspect the smoked and salted hunks of meat and fish and bottle of liquor before tucking it all back together and holding it in his lap.  
  
"Thank ya, laddie."  
  
Brunnera rumbled and turned to the east, starting to hike down the slight slope they had met on. "C'mon..."  
  
"Where we goin'?" Dagen grumbled, already moving to follow him, the wheels crunching softly in the snow.  
  
"Meet... some friends..." Brunnera rumbled. "But be silent... and... stay back... a bit... I'm... supposed... to be hunting..."  
  
They cut east through the snow, moving steadily and slow. Dagen staying a bit back and away. With each step Brunnera hoping that if Lucien or one of the Tomb Takers chose to spy on him they would see nothing but what they could assume to be the fighter hunting deep in the wilderness.  
  
Brunnera hiked on determinedly until the dark was broken by a softly winking light. A campfire in the distance.  
  
He stood still, a pale shspe outlined in the night, looking across the expanse of snow tundra. These moments the most dangerous for him, for his family behind in the Tower counting on him.  
  
He wanted to call to some higher power for help. For protection. He had no god. Had never claimed one for himself. So many years chained and starving and fighting in the gravel and sand pits of the colosseum, begging every god and goddess and any other being of power to save him had fallen on deaf ears and Brunnera had given up on the gods.  
  
But they... _he_ needed some kind of protection to beseech... he looked up yo where the shapes of the moons in their new form were visible.  
  
Brunnera supposed this was a tryst of sorts. That he was in need of misdirection and shielding from prying eyes. How strangely fitting considering who among the Nein had loved the Moonweaver. Brunnera sent a silent prayer to Sehanine and to whatever shard of soul that had been the real Mollymauk Tealeaf, begging both for a bit of luck and protection. To turn Lucien’s eyes away for the time being.  
  
The big fighter took a deep breath, hoping the Nein had Lucien thoroughly distracted before turning up the lantern as bright as it would go. He stood up as tall as he could and cupping a hand around his mouth he let out a long, low cry that mimicked a wolf. It echoed out over the tundra, he pitched the howl up high then low then high again. A clear and well known signal in Bazzoxan.  
  
Instantly he heard a soft, accented voice wash against his mind. Welcome and familiar.  
  
_Brunnera. We're coming. Standfast._  
  
The fighter breathed thankfully at Essek's voice and set off hiking towards the campsite again with Dagen in tow.  
  
It wasn't long before the sound of hooves thundering across the ice reached them and three Rangifer charged up to meet them, skidding to a stop on the snow. One of the riders dismounting and stumbling before his mount had even stopped fully to sprint forwards.  
  
Brunnera and Verin collided hard enough it made the fighter stumble and crash back into the snow. He wrapped the smaller, trembling form of the drow to his chest tightly. Curling himself almost completely around Verin, even coiling his tail around him.  
  
Somewhere in his periphery Dagen and Xullae Do'arn greeted each other cordially and started to speak softly. They weren't completely comfortable but there was certainly a recognition of kindred spirits. Possibly even a crossing or two out in the wilds under their belts.  
  
Brunnera looked up as Essek gingerly lowered himself from his stag and floated over. The fighter's brow crunched in worry and his ears pinned back a bit at the stiff way Essek seemed to hold himself. It suggested soreness and stiffness. Of pain present or recently passed. Brunnera unwound one long arm from around Verin and reached towards Essek.  
  
The Shadowhand hesitated before moving forwards and letting himself be pulled in to a careful, light hug. "Hello, Brunnera."  
  
"Essek... Rin... I've m... m-missed you... both..." His voice wobbled a bit, he let out a shuddering sigh.  
  
Verin burrowed himself deeper into Brunnera's thick mane of his neck, he let out a tight chuckle, "Nearly couldn't see you, Brun. You've gone all white. Like an Empire's pet rabbit."

“You’ve no… room… to speak…” He lifted a hand to lightly pull braid of white and red hair, inspecting the color change in the pale light. “… lookin’… like Sprinkle…”

Verin grumbled and gave Brunnera a little punch in the ribs without pulling to far away from him. The big fighter rumbled, arching down to nuzzle behind Verin's ear affectionately, breathing in for just a moment longer before sitting back a bit. "... I haven't... much time..."  
  
Freeing up his hands to speed up his speech Brunnera relayed everything that had happened, starting with the death of Vess DeRogna and all that followed. All he knew of Lucien the Tomb Takers, the Nonagon, Somnovum and Cognouza. What they had managed to gather of his plans and the tenuous trust they managed to maintain. He relayed everything that had been said over the campfires and what little he'd been able to decipher from the strange book over Beau and Caleb’s shoulder. Slowly his hands fell still. Essek floated in the air next to him and Verin was curled against his chest. Dagen and Xullae had moved to join them during the tale.  
  
Though he refrained from talking about Jester decapitating the dead Kryn soldier and carrying the head around in Fjord’s bag.

“Certainly explains where all the explorers have been disappearing off to.” Verin muttered.  
  
"We cannot let this Somnovum be brought back..." Essek said softly. "A city of mad, savage mages from a thousand years ago..."  
  
"Bloodhunters are not to be trifled with. It has been years since I have met anyone of the Claret Orders much less known of defectors. I’m shocked the Order didn’t seek to put them down immediately if that’s really who they once belonged to." Verin said softly. "And it seems this... mockery of Mollymauk is doubly dangerous... we will not be able to plan a strategy well. But they do not know we come to meet you and that we outnumber them. “  
  
Brunnera rumbled in agreement, some of the tension and uncertainty falling from his shoulders. He had hoped that Jester’s message that afternoon would spur Essek into finally breaking away from the outpost to join them. He could not have dreamed to hope that not only had Essek already done so but Verin was in tow and they were near enough to be reached. The fighter had half a mind to return to the Tower to convince the rest of the Nein to bolt that very night. Leave the Tomb Takers to sleep away in the Tower and wake to find them long gone.

“It would serve us well to know where they planned to enter the ruin or at least where within they planned to go. Bottleneck them to where would benefit us better. Set an ambush. Anything to get a bit of an advantage.” Verin was thinking hard as his hands fidgeted in Brunnera’s thick fur, twisting the strands together in a false braid. “But we only have a day or so. Unless luck grants us more time.”

“Or sabotage.” Essek suggested.

Brunnera chuffed, reluctantly nudging Verin back so he could stand. “I will… try… we all… will… I… do not like being… trapped as Lucien has us… take care… of Dagen… he’s… been… good to us…”

“We’ll get along jus’ fine, I think.” Dagen rumbled. Xullae gave a little nod in agreement.

“Jester will… call… when I… have more… that can… help us…” Brunnera rumbled.

“We’ll make for the ruin. We’ll travel faster with the deer.” Verin advised. “We’ll chain Dagen to the back like a sled.”

Dagen smirked, “Ya say that like I ain’t done it before and ain’t willin’ to do it again.”

Verin chuckled then turned to look back towards Brunnera as the big fighter gently folded Essek into a careful hug, mindful of his still stiff posture and seeming pain. It made Verin’s brow dip in worry, if the firbolg was being that careful there certainly was something wrong. The Echo Knight vowed to get Essek out of the tundra and to a real healer and not just a field cleric.  
  
When Brunnera moved to stand in front of him the drow found he couldn’t look up into his face, his eyes fixed at the thick mane of white around his neck, where just the edge of the heavy black metal collar still showed through the fur. He felt the heavy arms circle around him and he leaned all his weight trustingly into the firbolg. Soaking in the warmth and feeling more than hearing the low rumbling purr from deep in the wide chest. A noise he knew was meant only for him and it soothed away the sudden twist of tension and ache that parting again so soon caused.

“ _Doer rath ulu uns'aa_ …” He said softly in Undercommon before pulling back. _Come back to me._

Brunnera rumbled, nuzzling behind his ear one last time before he backed away, scooping up his lantern and turned to head back in a north-western loop that would curve him back towards the site of the Tower.

He hiked through the deep snow, waiting until he was well away from the site of the clandestine meeting before actually attempting a little hunting. By luck he came upon a stretch flat ground that he recognized as ice. The bluish color unusual to anything he had seen so far. Shallow pools of dark water made him hesitate for a moment before a rush of air burst from one not too far distant from him, sending a burst of vapor like a geyser into the air. Air holes.

Brunnera had talked at length with some of the sailors of the Midnight Hammer as they sailed north. At least as at length as his own crippled speech allowed. He’d asked what he could about game and hunting. What to look for in case they found themselves stranded and starving. This had come up. Inland lagoons pockmarked with air holes. Places that seals hauled out of the ocean.

Brunnera snuffed the light from the lantern, letting his eyes adjust to the glow of the moonlight across the ice and snow. He loosed a javelin from his gear and started to creep forwards slowly as he tied the end of his rope in place; searching for the bulk of a creature laid out asleep on the seawater lake. It didn’t take long before he spotted the heavy form of a large seal hauled out next to a large hole. Brunnera crept closer before hurling the javelin with all his strength and hitting his target.

It was a struggle but not a long one. Brunnera pausing to quietly thank the seal and the Wildmother for the gift of the meat, leaving the offal in a steaming pile behind for hungry scavengers he hauled up the still warm carcass and hiked the rest of the way back to the Tower site.

Caleb had kindly left the door visible, a pale amber beacon that he followed the last stretch of his journey. The fighter felt exhaustion starting to creep on him from the long day spent in the ice fog and half the night on the move. He made for the door and knocked gently three times.

It swung open and Frumpkin stood on the other side, giving a soft chirp of greeting. Brummera rumbled back to the fey cat, bending to let him climb up to his shoulder as he tugged the door closed and padded to the center of the room. Frumpkin meowed softly, leaping off his shoulder and floating upwards, Brunnera crouched before launching upwards after him, traveling up through the Great Hall and Salon. He landed on the dining floor and reached to pull a silken rope only to be swiftly joined by a few spectral cats. 

Brunnera slung down the seal carcass and signed slowly to Gretchen and Wanja how to butcher, salt and smoke the seal to keep as they traveled, asking to keep much of the fat on the meat. The cats seemed skeptical but Methuselah was summoned to haul the seal away to be prepared. Brunnera signed his thanks and rewarded the cats with a few strokes of his hand over their backs as they scurried off.

Brunnera rose stiffly and turned to come face to face with Lucien. He cocked an eyebrow. 

"Seems your hunt was successful, your majesty. Did you go all the way to the ocean for that thing?" Lucien drawled. 

Brunnera shook his head. 

"You were gone a terribly long time." 

The fighter shrugged. 

"... I honestly don't believe you can't speak." 

Brunnera snorted, shrugged and moved passed Lucien. Frumpkin narrowed his eyes at the tiefling before leaping up into the air and floating ahead. Brunnera could feel eyes on his back as the fighter crouched and launched upwards again into the drift of the magic. 

Following the familiar through the Tower upwards, to where the Nein were bedded down. The fighter had every intention of taking a hot bath to be rid of the blood soaking his fur, eat whatever leftovers the cats felt kind enough to bring him and then sleep for what little rest of the night he could. He'd relay what had happened over night to the rest of the Nein in the morning. 

He gave a gentle knock to Yasha’s door, letting himself in and expecting to find all the Nein deeply asleep.

The sight of Fjord awake as Beau and Caleb scrambling with their clothes to try and find something on their skin, of the red eye carved on the back of Beau’s hand and when his shirt came free the back of Caleb’s shoulder, the small curl of hope that had started to settle in his stomach fled completely, turning sick and sour.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS A BIG ONE. This installment kind of two different oneshot ideas I ended up folding together into a single part. 
> 
> The story of Char the Iron Hare was heavily inspired by the art of Eskiworks/Katie Hofgard and a part of her amazing TeaFeathers world. You can find her stuff on Tumblr, Etsy and Deviantart and its all amazing. Writing "new" folktales is tough and seeing some amazing art and ideas out there on the internet helps makes those stories come together. 
> 
> Lucien is an inexcusable bastard and Brun wants to get his family as far away from this Molly imposter as possible. 
> 
> But man oh man is the canon getting insane. I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS. 
> 
> God I really do hope Verin is actually in Eiselcross. I have made many arguments over on my Tumblr about why he would actually be there. 
> 
> ARE YOU LISTENING MATTHEW MERCER?! GIVE US THE BABY BROTHER!!!


End file.
